You’re blindfolded. Hands still free, but it doesn’t matter — this wine has already taken over. The first scent is sharp: black cherry and cold graphite, precise as a gloved fingertip across the neck. Then come the florals—violet, bruised rose, maybe something herbal—but they’re tucked just beneath the surface, like secrets you haven’t earned yet.
La Paterne doesn’t open up. It draws you in. Every sip tightens the leash: acidity pulls at the corners of your mouth, the tannins graze without breaking skin, and the fruit? Controlled. Leashed. Held back just long enough to make you crave it. It’s not here to give you everything. It’s here to make you ask.
Pair it with peppered duck, black garlic, or the kind of dinner where eye contact lingers too long between bites.
Region: Saumur-Champigny, Loire, France Grapes: Cabernet Franc
